


Guardian Angel (Just a Trick of the Light)

by AuntieClimactic



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst Sam Winchester, Consensual Violence, F/M, Gabriel Has Issues, Genderbending, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-04
Updated: 2013-02-04
Packaged: 2017-11-28 04:15:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/670165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuntieClimactic/pseuds/AuntieClimactic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Response to the Gabriel Kink Meme prompt: "okay we've seen that Gabriel can change his form so I want Gabriel to have been picking Sam up in bars (or wherever) for years, like since after Tall Tales. Always in different forms."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Guardian Angel (Just a Trick of the Light)

**Author's Note:**

> Consensual issues come from Sam not knowing Gabriel's identity during their sexual encounters and not from anyone's unwillingness to participate. 
> 
> Contains rough sex, breath-play, light D/S.

Years later, Gabriel claimed that he carefully, methodically, and painstakingly planned the whole thing. But it began, like all major events in the universe, with an accident.

Gabriel was in a nowhere bar in a nowhere town, extending himself out, little tendrils of his once-Grace drifting in and out of the patrons, trying to find the one who was truly irredeemable. And, out of nowhere, Sam and Dean Winchester walked in. 

There was no danger recognition. The form the Winchesters knew as the Trickster was buried under long blonde hair, blue eyes, and two rather glorious c-cups, if he did say so himself. So, instead of walking calmly out the bar like any sane supernatural being when confronted by the most famous hunters in the United States, Gabriel ordered another Very Berry Margarita, and sat back to watch the Heralds of the Apocalypse in their natural environment. He only wished he could somehow inconspicuously conjure Steve Irwin to provide commentary.

The tension between the brothers seemed resolved for the most part. Sam and Dean moved in tandem, their bodies moved to accommodate each other – one scanning the room while the other was distracted by food, drinks, women, and vice versa. From what Gabriel observed, the brothers were doing it all unconsciously. It had been a long time since Gabriel had felt that with another. A long time.

Gabriel must have been focusing a little too hard because Dean glanced over with narrowed eyes. At first, Gabriel worried that he had given himself away. But then Dean gave him a lingering once over, and (in what he probably thought was a subtle gesture) pointed him out to Sam. Sam rolled his eyes. Dean muttered something. Frowning in irritation, Sam looked over, turned away, and then turned back again. 

Gabriel realized that he, an Angel of the Lord turned pagan demigod, was being checked out by the Winchesters. A wicked smile spread over his face. Sam replied with a slow smile of his own.

And that was how Gabriel ended up in a dirty motel room with his underwear pushed down around his ankles and Sam Winchester between his legs, eating him out. 

Despite being the quieter of the brothers, Sam certainly had a mouth on him. Hell, his tongue, flicking against Gabriel’s clit made him want to stay there forever, his thighs spread as Sam sucked and nudged at him until Gabriel was gasping. Sam slipped two fingers inside him, gliding in easily through Gabriel’s slick folds. His fingers curled up, and he licked Gabriel from his clit down to his entrance with a pleased hum.

Gabriel writhed as Sam’s mouth and fingers worked on him. Sam licked him, fingers thrusting inside him in a mockery of the real thing. Gabriel grabbed the headboard, rocking against Sam until he had to hold him against the mattress with his arm. 

“Fuck,” Gabriel sobbed. Sam licked him all over once more before finding his clit and sucking.

Gabriel fingers crushed the headboard in order to keep his hips from bucking up and shoving Sam into the ceiling as he came. 

After that, Sam was quick: pants down, dick out, condom on, and pushing in with one steady thrust. Sam was big, and he paused, obviously out of habit, waiting for Gabriel to adjust.

“Okay?” Sam asked, breathing hard.

Gabriel grabbed him by the back of his neck and pulled Sam down until he was only a breath away. 

“Shut up and fuck me.” He kissed Sam once, hard, demanding, and a little shocked at how desperate he was for this. 

Sam braced himself on the bed and fucked him with long, slow thrusts that made Gabriel arch his back and feel every flex when Sam moved inside him.

Gabriel wrapped his legs around Sam’s waist, digging his nails into the muscles of Sam’s back. His pushes filled Gabriel, made him whisper things like “please” and “don’t stop” in Sam’s ear.

Sam’s trusts became harder, more frantic. His hand reached between Gabriel’s legs and rubbed. He bit the curve of Gabriel’s neck.

Later, when Gabriel was pretending to be asleep, he listened to Sam think about another blonde woman. Sam couldn’t quite remember every detail of her face anymore, but that no longer tortured him.

That was the first time.

***

Gabriel felt the universe moving. It came with the territory of both his career paths. He knew the exact moment Dean kissed the crossroad demon, and, if he hadn’t made a vow to stop caring about a millennia ago, what was left of Gabriel’s Grace might have cracked open. 

As it was, it rained in every city Gabriel moved to for the next few weeks. His victims died particularly violent deaths, and the ones that weren’t lucky enough to die lived in a physically limited capacity. 

One night, Gabriel stood in the rain, watching the lights of Vegas beckoning in the distance. Gabriel felt the earth moving under his feet and the billions of souls on it shining, frail and fierce. He closed his eyes, and searched. His eyes opened. His form rippled and he was gone. 

He reappeared in Montana outside the bar aptly named Drinks. He was taller, with darker features and a crew cut, male. Gabriel opened the door, and walked right up to object of his focus without bothering to glance around. Sam was slumped over the bar, drunk, sans Dean, and practically radiating self-hate. He must have figured it out then. If only he knew where this was headed. 

Gabriel leaned against the bar, dangerous and not bothering to hide it. “Can I buy you a drink?”

Sam glanced over, and Gabriel smiled, showing teeth. There was a brief pause, but Gabriel knew that Sam wouldn’t say no, human gender issues aside. Gabriel gestured to the bartender, who brought over another line of shots. Sam grabbed a glass and knocked it back.

“I’m Sam,” he said, holding out his hand. Gabriel took it, shaking a little harder and longer than necessary. 

“Do you want to know my name?” Gabriel asked.

“Not really,” Sam said. He got up and walked out the back. Gabriel swallowed down the remaining shot and followed.

In the alley, Gabriel barely made an effort to lube and stretch Sam open before shoving him face first into the wall, kicking his legs apart, and thrusting inside him with one mean push. Sam hissed, his fingers digging into the brick of the wall, the muscles in his back tensing, but, instead of crying out, he just grinded back against Gabriel.

“Please -” Sam started.

“Shut up,” Gabriel snapped, hands digging roughly into Sam’s hair. He pulled Sam’s head back until his Adam’s popped out against the frail skin of his neck. Sam made a noise against the bricks that sounded broken and desperate. 

Gabriel whispered into Sam’s ear, letting his teeth graze the shell. “You don’t get to talk. Just shut up and take it.”

Sam groaned, placed his hands flat against the wall, and shoved himself back toward Gabriel’s trusts, wanting it harder, deeper. He was shaking, trembling under his need. He felt hot around Gabriel’s cock, and Gabriel thrust into him, enjoying the feeling of that tight, little hole stretching around him.

“You know what your problem is?” Gabriel asked, low and violent. “You’re weak. You’re useless.” 

His hand closed around Sam’s throat, squeezing. Sam was making desperate, greedy moves with his hips; small gasps escaped his month. Gabriel used his free hand to clutch at the back of Sam’s thigh, leaving a trail of red, crescent marks where his nails dug in.

Gabriel made a ragged noise, losing his rhythm in favor of violent thrusts, holding Sam’s head at a punishing angle. He squeezed around Sam’s throat hard enough to cut off the airflow. Sam made a small noise. It sounded like “yes.”

“I could kill you right now. The world would be better for it.” Gabriel panted. He pressed Sam’s head forward into the wall, maneuvering him into a position where Sam couldn’t look back at him. 

“You stupid shit. Why can’t you just stop?” Gabriel’s voice cracked as he came inside Sam. 

His knees gave out slightly under him. Gabriel rested his head against Sam’s back, breathing ragged and uneven. Sam chest heaved, dick hard and aching against his stomach. Gabriel pushed his fingers into Sam’s hole, sliding through the mess he had left there. His fingers made a wet sound as they twisted free. Then, he wrapped his come-slick fingers around Sam’s cock and tugged. Sam spasmed with the sensation and came, sobbing against the dirty bricks.

That’s how Gabriel left him, unsure of whom exactly he’d been punishing or who needed it more.

***

The next time was unexpected. Sam had been looking for him, the Trickster him, for about a month after Dean’s “final” death. Occasionally, Gabriel would allow Sam to catch a flash of him disappearing around the corner just see if Sam would chase after him. And he did. Everytime. It was getting slightly pathetic.

But Gabriel was still surprised when he felt a hand grab his bicep in a crushing grip (if he’d been human). He had just enough time to shift the features of his face before Sam spun him around.

“Whoa! What the hell, man?” Gabriel demanded, piling as much fear, shock, and anger into his voice as realistically possible. The street was empty during this time of night, and Sam looked positively wrecked under the dim, yellow light of the street lamps. 

Sam blinked once, twice, and then threw Gabriel up against the wall. He was shaking from exhaustion. Gabriel doubted he even had a weapon on him. 

“Jesus,” Gabriel breathed, “My wallet’s in my back pocket. Take whatever you want.” 

Gabriel pulled out his wallet that was suddenly there, and handed it over. Sam swallowed, looking uncertain. He flipped it open, getting a good, long look at the picture inside it. The body Gabriel was currently projecting (which, from behind, was rather similar to his preferred form) standing in front of a school. In Kenya. Surrounded by African children. Holding a puppy. 

Too much?

Apparently not. Sam let out one shuddering breath. Handed the wallet over.

“Sorry. I – I thought you were someone else.”

And then Sam collapsed. Gabriel didn’t bother to catch him. He stared at the crumpled figure and considered. Perhaps it was time to try a different route.

Sam slept like the dead. But when he woke, Gabriel was ready.

Sam pushed himself up, groaned and flopped back. Gabriel dragged his chair closer to the bed and handed him a glass of water. Taking it gratefully, Sam drained the glass.

“I don’t make a habit of bringing would-be muggers back to my motel room, so please feel free to thank me.” 

Sam’s face twisted guilty, remembering. “I’m -”

“Sorry. Yeah, yeah.” Gabriel interrupted, “What if I’d been a vampire? Or a demon? You’d be a lot sorrier then, after passing out at my feet.” 

Gabriel could see the wheels turning in Sam’s head as he sat up. “You a hunter?”

Gabriel put on his best harmless smirk, “Hardly. I’m a lowly tax accountant. In town for a union conference. I did know your brother, though.”

“Aaron?” Suspicious again.

“Actually, he called him, Dean,” Gabriel grinned. “And Johnny Zeppelin, but that’s a different story.”

Sam relaxed, but only slightly, “How’d you know my brother?” 

“Got his number from a friend of a friend a few years back. He helped me with a little problem. Who knew monsters actually lived in closets?” 

Gabriel stopped, tilting his head. “He showed me a picture of you once. Said you were studying law at Stanford. Said you were smart, going places. What happened? Because, frankly, I’ve seen crack addicts that look better than you do right now.”

Sam swallowed hard, and turned away. “My brother died.”

Here we go. Calculating out a shocked pause, Gabriel softened his voice, “I’m sorry to hear that.”

Nodding, Sam moved to get up. Gabriel grabbed his wrist, careful to keep his grip gentle, human. 

“Hey. What’s the rush?”

Sam looked at where Gabriel’s hand was touching the bare skin of his wrist, making no move to shake free, “I need to go.”

“You need to sleep.” Gabriel pulled Sam back to the bed. “Just take it easy for a night.”

“I have to find the son of a bitch that killed my brother.”

“Yeah?” Gabriel raised an eyebrow. “What are you going to do when you find it? Pass out again?” 

“I’m going to make it bring Dean back.” There was steel in Sam’s voice.

Gabriel let his thumb rub up and down along the underside of Sam’s wrist. “What if it can’t?”

Now Sam shook his hand off, face ferocious, and stood. Gabriel jumped up, placing his hands against Sam’s chest to stop him from pulling a Winchester and storming out of the motel room.

“Sorry! Look,” Gabriel sighed, laying on the apologetic hesitation before continuing. “I’ve lost a bother. More than one actually.” 

Sam paused. Gabriel continued.

“And I wasted years being angry at everything, leaving a trail of ruin in my path.” Gabriel’s voice hitched. Only part of the act. “One day, I realized that if they saw me, if they saw what I’d become… Do you think Dean would be proud of you? Of what you’ve become?”

Gabriel stopped. Sam was staring at him with a look on his face like he’d been kicked in the stomach. He wasn’t crying, but it was close.

“Stay.” Gabriel said, quietly. “Just until the morning. Things might seem clearer then.” 

Sam nodded. Slowly, his hands came up to twine his fingers with Gabriel’s. 

Oh. Well, if all else fails.

Gabriel titled his head up, and they were kissing. It was sweet and slow. Sam’s tongue flicked against his lips, and Gabriel opened, letting him inside. Clothes were being carefully pulled off and Sam was pushing him down onto the bed.

Sam’s hands were touching him everywhere, trying to grip every inch of his skin at once. Gabriel tried to soothe him with encouraging whispers, tugging him closer until Sam was lying between his legs. He traces his finger over the head of Sam’s cock, gathering the pre-come before wrapping his hand around Sam’s erection completely. Sam cried out, fucking his fist. 

He felt a hand close around him, bringing sweet friction around Gabriel's cock. Sam stroked once, hard, and Gabriel swallowed a yell, squirming underneath him. Sam dropped his head to Gabriel's shoulder and groaned. Gabriel turned and pressed a kiss onto Sam’s neck, just below his ear. He dug his teeth in a little and felt Sam tremble above him. Sam shifted, and their cocks were pressed together in his firm grip – hot, wet, and perfect.

They kissed as they came, tongues, teeth, and lips moving together. Sam stayed and slept through the whole night, something Gabriel knew he hadn’t done in months. Gabriel left in the morning, pressing a soft kiss to Sam’s forehead. 

A few days later, Gabriel heard rumors of a manic hunter taking out an entire nest of vampires by himself. He called Sam, using Bobby’s voice, “Sam, I think I have something.”

When Sam showed up, looking worse than he had in the dark alley. Gabriel promised himself that that had been the last time.

It wasn’t. 

***

Gabriel yawned and flicked over to the entertainment section of the paper. The news was just too… looming these days. The bell above the door jangled. 

“Excuse me?”

Shit. 

Gabriel looked over the corner of the paper to see Sam Winchester standing in front of the counter. Gabriel was filling in for the owner, who was currently in the hospital after contracting a slight case of flesh-eating bacteria. Just rewards for a man who’d been dealing in illegal organ trade. One of Gabriel’s better jobs. 

Sam smiled nervously, “Do you have a room available?”

How did he - Angel cloaking. Interesting. Trying to hide from fate after kicking its door down. How human. 

Gabriel smiled slowly, tossing his long, black hair over his shoulders. “For you, sweet-heart? We’ve got everything you need.” 

He grabbed the key for room seven and tossed it. Sam caught it deftly.

“Uh, thanks?”

Gabriel winked, “And that includes room service.”

Sam seemed uncomfortable, like a black woman had never hit on him before. Not that Gabriel had a gender or a race, but it was the appearance at the moment that counted. He stuttered out thanks and paid with a credit card (Jay Walker. Dean’s touch). Gabriel kept the smile on full force and his chest pushed out until Sam left.

He didn’t think Sam would turn up again during the night, and Gabriel had no reason to dash off. The sign on the door said they were open until two in the morning, and a do-gooder like Sam would probably start a search and rescue for that “sweet little motel clerk,” which would lead to “what sweet little motel clerk?” That would lead to “the owner had flesh-eating bacteria,” and Gabriel wasn’t really eager to telegraph his presence yet. He wasn’t in the mood for the old “you got me with that stake through the heart this time, no really” routine, or, God forbid, they try to ask him for help. 

Honestly, Gabriel was sick of trying to help. It wasn’t like Sam could say he hadn’t been warned. About a thousand times. 

So it was surprise when, at five till two, Sam yanked open the door. Gabriel’s nerves, generally a solid flat line, spiked when he took a hard look at Sam. He was practically jumping out of his skin, hands opening and closing in fists.

Gabriel was still trying to decide between letting Sam stake him or simply flying off when Sam spoke.

“Hi.” Sam ran his hand through his hair. Gabriel raised his eyebrow. Option C then: improvise.

“Office closes in five minutes.” 

Sam nodded, “I know, I just…”

Gabriel breathed in the air, smelling the traces of Lucifer curled around Sam. “Bad dream?” 

A mirthless laugh escaped Sam’s mouth, “Something like that.”

Gabriel couldn’t really believe this was happening. He gestured to the couch in the waiting room.

“Wanna…”

The relief was so instantaneous in Sam’s eyes that Gabriel had to restrain the urge to bang his head on the desk. Really? This was his life now? Talking to Sam Winchester, vessel of the Morning Star, about his fucking feelings?

But Sam didn’t seem like he wanted to talk. He just sat on the couch, twitching like he was in for a prostate exam (there’s a thought). After a few minutes of incredibly uncomfortable silence, Gabriel locked the front door and dimmed the office lights. 

He came and sat across from Sam. He paused, not really believing what he was about it do, “Want a blow job?”

Sam’s reaction said that he thought he’d misheard. “Huh?”

Gabriel rolled his eyes, “What was it? Crack? Alcohol? Heroine?”

“That obvious?”

“You’re not exactly Mister Subtle.” 

Sam laughed and stared at his hands, “Did you – Did you ever feel like you were headed somewhere, somewhere bad, and there was nothing you could do to stop it?”

“Every day of my life,” Gabriel smiled, not kindly.

“What did you do?”

Gabriel felt himself tense up. He knew where they were headed, and he wasn’t in the mood to discuss fate or reassure the Winchester that everything was going to be okay. Angels couldn’t lie anyway. Not even turned pagan god angels. 

Instead, Gabriel slid to his knees in front of Sam. Moving quickly, he had Sam’s belt open before Sam stopped him, grabbing Gabriel’s small hands in a shocked reflex.

“What are you doing?” Sam glanced around, as if checking for hidden lust talismans. Fun, but unnecessary. 

Gabriel sighed. “Listen, I’m not up for the ‘Do Your Best, Skippy’ pep talk tonight. And I doubt you’d even listen if I did. But I can do this for you, if you want.”

Sam stared, incredulous and possibly slightly offended. 

“I offered you a blow job are a reason. As far as distractions go, they’re pretty far at the top.” Gabriel grinned, “Even for addicts.”

For a few moments, Gabriel thought Sam was going stammer out a refusal and leave. But if Sam left, Gabriel could get to work on his next gig (Thomas Bellows, Chicago, human trafficking) or, if he stayed, Gabriel got sex. It was what you’d call a win-win situation. 

Then, slowly, Sam’s fingers uncurled from around his wrist. He nodded. Gabriel pushed himself up and kissed Sam once, meaning it to be quick and hard, but Sam clutched the back of his neck and held him there, fighting for control of the kiss. Gabriel could taste his desperation, and wondered when exactly he became the answer to Sam’s need. 

Slipping his tongue into Sam’s mouth, Gabriel used the opportunity to tug Sam’s shirt from his jeans. He slid his hands underneath, finding warm skin and firm muscles that jumped under his fingers.

Gabriel flicked his tongue against Sam’s lip and bit down. He started to pull away, but Sam chased him with his mouth, pressing his fingers against Gabriel’s jaw to hold him in place. They were kissing with open mouths now, wide, wet, and greedy, so far from the quick press of lips Gabriel intended. 

Breaking Sam’s grip, Gabriel pulled away. Sam looked breathless and stunned. Gabriel used the opportunity to yank Sam’s jeans and boxers off. Sam was already hard. Gabriel started to bend down, but Sam stopped him with a hand on his chin.

“What’s your name?”

Gabriel didn’t smile, “You couldn’t pronounce it.”

Then he knocked Sam’s hand away closed his mouth around Sam’s cock. Sam groaned, and a dull thud signaled that he had knocked his head against the wall. Gabriel looked up at him, flicked his tongue against the slit of Sam's cock. Sam bit his lip, watching with dark eyes as Gabriel licked around the head before sinking down and sucking the entire length into his mouth. Panting, Sam touched Gabriel’s cheek gently, no doubt feeling the stretch and flex of his jaw. 

“Fuck,” Sam whispered, hips making an aborted thrust upward. Gabriel laughed, knowing the vibrations would travel straight up through Sam’s cock. Sam grabbed Gabriel’s current mess of black curls and tugged pointedly. Gabriel looked directly into Sam’s eyes and pressed his teeth very carefully against the underside of Sam’s cock. Sam gasped, once, and Gabriel’s mouth was filled with bitter come that he quickly swallowed down.

Afterwards, Sam fell asleep on the couch. Gabriel watched him for a while, feeling the universe move and wondering what he had gotten himself into.

Maybe it was time to stop running and start playing his role.

***

This was the last time.

The battle between heaven and hell grew more intense day by day. Gabriel felt his brothers and sisters gathering their power, their resources, choosing sides. Lucifer flared, stronger than ever. He felt Sam’s growing fear and desperation, Dean’s emptiness. 

Gabriel wasn’t a virtuous being. He wasn’t really much of anything these days. Not a Trickster, not an angel, not evil, not pure, not fallen. He just was. And that’s how he thought he’d be until the world came crashing down.

All in all it was very depressing. Kinda took the fun out of his day job. 

But only a little.

Gabriel was in the middle of an incredibly complex set up involving a drug lord, a mustard factory, and a couple of animal rights activists (guy’s gonna have fun, right?) when he felt a tug. Someone was calling him name. Not Gabriel. Not the Trickster. His real name. 

He hadn’t heard that name for longer than humans could count.

Gabriel could have ignored the summons if he wanted to, but he liked to live life on the edge these days, had to considering that there wasn’t much of it left.

When he arrived, Gabriel couldn’t say he was shocked with the sight that greeted him. Blood magic, runes written all over the walls, rare herbs covering the floor, a twitchy-looking Dean, and a wide-eyed, nervous Castiel.

“Wow.” Gabriel glanced around the motel room. “You fine citizens should be ashamed of yourselves. That is not coming out of the carpet!” 

“Cut the crap, Douche Nozzle.” Dean snarled.

“Dean.” Castiel hushed him, a warning in his words.

Gabriel smiled. The corners of his mouth twisted upward, showing more teeth than should be humanly possible. “Careful, Winchester. There’s no holy oil to protect you this time. Wanna know what your intestines taste like?”

Dean glared back. Good old Winchesters. Playing violin until the ship sinks beneath their feet.

“Gabriel,” Castiel stepped in front of Dean. “Sam Winchester has been kidnapped by a coven of Devil worshippers.”

Gabriel kicked a chair away from the table and sat down. “And I care because? The way I see it, this is good news. The kick in the pants this world needs to get the apocalypse over with.”

Castiel made a sad noise. It was soft enough that Gabriel wouldn’t have been able to hear it if he was human. 

Then Dean was shoving his way past Castiel and into Gabriel’s personal space.

“Listen, you arrogant fuck, don’t feed me that ‘play your roles’ crap. You don’t believe it and you don’t want the world to end anymore than we do!”

Gabriel raised an eyebrow, “What makes you so sure? I’ve embraced the fact that you’re all going to burn. And guess what?” Gabriel leaned close, “I’m going to enjoy watching.”

Dean leaned down, unblinking. Their faces were inches apart. Castiel fluttered into the corners of their vision, tense and ready to intervene.

“Bullshit.” Dean whispered. “You know it, and I know it.”

“And how’s that, Dean?” Gabriel’s voice was murderous. “Enlighten me.”

Dean breathed out, and Gabriel felt the exile against his cheek. “You remade yourself.”

Gabriel twitched; Dean smiled. 

“Tell me again that you believe in fate, Trickster.”

Gabriel leaned back into his chair, watching the eldest of the entire Winchester line. He stared back, face angry and desperate. 

“Sam’s shielded from angels,” Gabriel said, finally.

“But not from pagan gods.” Castiel whispered.

Gabriel laughed, full and real. “Castiel. You’re such a nerd. All right, little brother. Let’s see where this leads.”

Closing his eyes, Gabriel searched. There. He opened his eyes and smiled. 

“Back in a tick.”

Long story short, Gabriel crashed the party, killed the bad guys, and saved the damsel. All while wearing the form of an average, non descript, waitress. In sensible shoes.

Sam blinked rapidly at the wreckage around him, “What…Who are you?” 

What the hell? His waitress melted into the hotel clerk, to the tax accountant, to the man with the crew cut, to the cute blonde, and finally stopping in his regular form. Sam’s mouth dropped.

Gabriel grabbed Sam by the corner of his jacket, and pulled him in close. Sam was stunned enough to let him.

“I’m your knight in shining armor, sweet-heart.” And then he kissed Sam. Hot, heavy, and hard. Open mouths, tongue pushing his way in until Sam had no choice but to grip the back of his head and kiss back. 

Gabriel pushed Sam backwards until he had him pinned against the wall. Sam’s hands clenched his elbows as Gabriel kissed him again, sliding his hips up against Sam’s to feel Sam’s cock twitch, definitely interested.

Sam pushed him away, gasping and blushing a deep red. He looked unsteady. Winking, Gabriel stepped back.

“How did you...?” Sam asked, trying not to stutter.

“Dean’s in Motel 36 about five miles from here. You might want to have him pick you up before the police arrive.”

With a mocking waving, Gabriel disappeared.

He knew that after tonight Sam would spend the rest of the time either avoiding or trying to kill him instead of looking too closely. 

Who knows what he would see? 

***

As far as plans went, Gabriel’s worked like a charm. Beyond getting the job done and the nasty thing killed, Sam never approached Gabriel. Never demanded an explanation for why he had decided to help them after all or why Gabriel had kissed him that night. 

Occasionally though, Gabriel would catch Sam staring at him, eyes narrowed in thought. Gabriel would simply stare back, perhaps slowly raising an eyebrow, until Sam looked away.

Gabriel didn’t regret his decision. The Winchesters had a better sense of humor than Lucifer, and please understand the severity of that statement. 

And anyway, once you picked a side you made enemies, and that meant you couldn’t change your mind. 

Lucifer didn’t know who Gabriel was (yet), but word on the street was that he was desperate to meet him.

Which was why Gabriel was sitting on the porch of Bobby’s house. He wasn’t allowed inside, since Bobby was a cranky bastard who held a grunge. He didn’t mind. It meant he didn’t have to put up with Castiel’s quiet understanding or Dean’s bitter acknowledgement. Gabriel preferred to sit by himself, watching his breath mist and disappear in the dark air. 

“You don’t look at the stars.”

Gabriel turned. Sam stood in the shadows watching him.

“Why should I?” Gabriel asked, looking up. “Heaven isn’t up in there.”

Sam shrugged, “We miss a few details here and there, I guess.”

Gabriel snorted. “That’s one way of seeing it.” 

“But the thing is,” Sam moved closer until he was standing directly in front of Gabriel. “If you give humans enough time, we can usually put the pieces together.”

Gabriel tilted his head up, “Is this going somewhere or – ”

Sam kicked Gabriel’s legs apart with his knee, moving to stand between them. Gabriel blinked.

“Sam.” A warning.

“See the thing is,” Sam leaned down and placed his hands on the chair arms, blocking Gabriel in, “You always kiss the same.”

Gabriel bristled, “I’ll have you know I have a vast and varied – ”

Sam pressed his lips against Gabriel’s, taking advantage of his open mouth to lick inside. Gabriel grunted, possibly in protest, but their mouths make wet sounds as their tongues and lips moved. A large hand cupped Gabriel’s jaw, changing to pace from wet and dirty to slow and deep. It turned sloppy, and Sam’s mouth was red when he finally pulled back.

“You always smelled the same, Gabriel.” He whispered, close enough that his lips brushed Gabriel’s as he spoke. “You smell the same now as you did when you were fucking me in that alley.”

Gabriel exhaled, sharp and unnecessary. His breath evaporated against Sam’s mouth. Sam watched him, eyes dilated in the darkness.

“Oh,” Gabriel said. “That. What of it?”

Sam bit his lip, uncertain. Gabriel sighed and started to stand. Sam shoved him back down into the chair. Gabriel fell back, too shocked to stop it. No human had dared to touch him like that. Ever.

Sam straddled Gabriel’s legs and sat down on his thighs, managing to sit in a way where he was looming over Gabriel while holding him down with his height and weight. 

“Take out your cock.” 

Gabriel’s eyebrows shot into his hairline. “Excuse me?”

Grabbing his hair, Sam yanked Gabriel’s head back so he was looking directly up into his face.

“You tricked me, lied to me, killed my brother, turned me into a car, and you did this while you were fucking me.” Sam tightened his grip until Gabriel felt some of his hairs separate from the skin of his scalp. “Take. Your cock. Out of your pants.”

Gabriel grinned humorlessly. So this was revenge. He reached down between their bodies, unzipped his jeans. He arched his hips as he pulled down his pants, taking care to brush the side of Sam’s dick. 

Sam looked down, staring at Gabriel’s half-hard cock. His nostrils flared as he breathed in, sharply. Gabriel was ready for whatever Sam wanted to dish out while he was vulnerable and exposed, as if that was the worst punishment Gabriel would ever receive. But Gabriel would let Sam have his petty retribution. He did, after all, turn him into a car. 

“Touch yourself.” Sam said.

Gabriel blinked, “What?”

“I want to see you. I want to watch you come. In this body.” Sam grabbed his hair on both sides, and took his mouth again, kissing him hotly. Stubble scratched Gabriel’s face. Slowly, he pulled away. 

Looking down, Gabriel took himself in hand and started to slowly pump his cock. He kept his movements light and teasing, stroking himself with just enough pressure to get himself fully hard.

“That’s it.” Sam said. His hands unbuttoned Gabriel’s shirt, opening it to bare skin. His nail scratched lightly around Gabriel’s nipple. “Remember when I ate you out? You begged for it, writhing against my face as I sucked your cunt.”

Gabriel’s hip arched, pushing upward into his fist. He could feel Sam hard and high against his thigh. He brought his other hand down to cup and squeeze his balls. He pressed his thumb underneath the head of his cock.

Sam pushed two fingers against his lips. Gabriel opened his mouth, and Sam slid them in. They brushed over his tongue, and Gabriel locked eyes with Sam and sucked. His hand moved faster, tightening his fist around his dick. 

“You did this once to me.” Sam said, his voice shaky. “Put my cock inside your mouth. Swallowed my come.”

Gabriel was helpless to stop the noise, low and soft, in the back of his throat. Pre-come has gathered at the head of his cock. He used his thumb to swipe it off, spreading it down to ease some of the friction of his strokes. Sam glanced down, watching the movements of Gabriel’s hand. The tip of Sam’s tongue darted out to wet his lips. 

He pulled his fingers free from Gabriel’s mouth, slick with salvia. Dropping his hand, he reached between Gabriel’s legs and teased his entrance. Gabriel threw his head back, gasping. 

“Sam.”

Sam pressed one spit-slick finger inside him. Gabriel’s hand left his balls to slam down against the arm of the chair. It snapped off. He reached up and grabbed the back of Sam’s neck. Pulled his face down until there was nowhere to look but in his eyes.

“I want you to fuck me, Sam.” Gabriel hissed. 

Pressing another finger inside him, Sam panted harshly against his face. “I want you to ride me. I want to flip you over and lick my come from your hole. I want to hold you down. Will you let me hold you down, Gabriel?”

Gabriel closed his eyes briefly, feeling Sam’s fingers move inside him to the rhythm of his own jerks. “Yes.” His cock was throbbing, pulsing, aching for release. Sam dragged one hand slowly down Gabriel's chest, his long fingers wrapping tight around Gabriel’s hand, helping him stroke himself, hard and fast and –

“You always tasted the same.” Sam whispered against his lips.

Gabriel’s head fell back; Sam pulled his fingers out and covered Gabriel’s mouth, muffling his shout as he came, body jerking, come splattering his stomach. Sam nursed him through it, watching Gabriel’s face intently and milking out every last spasm until Gabriel relaxed, limp, into the chair.

Sam slid off Gabriel’s lap to the ground. He bent his head to Gabriel’s stomach and lapped at his come with his tongue, long teasing swipes of hot wetness.

“Jesus, Sam.” Gabriel fisted his hand in Sam’s hair. Sam just glanced up, meeting Gabriel’s gaze and biting down gently. His pink tongue darted out, licking the mark he made, which was already fading.

Taking one of Gabriel’s hands, Sam made him slide his fingers through his own mess, and then sucked Gabriel’s fingers into his mouth, licking the come off them.

Gabriel’s dick twitched in interest. He was, after all, a demigod.

Sam rested his head on Gabriel’s thigh. Gabriel’s fingers seemed to have taken a life of their own. He didn’t realize they’d been stroking Sam’s hair until he looked down.

“Thank you.” Sam said after a moment.

“Under the circumstance Sam, I think I should probably be saying that.” Gabriel cleared his throat, “Not that I would.”

He felt Sam smile against his skin. “I mean it. Despite you… being you. You were there… when I – you know.”

Gabriel resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “How touching.”

Sam stood up; Gabriel eyed the bulge in his crotch with undisguised interest. 

“You know, I planned this whole thing. Methodically.”

Sam’s lips twitched, “Oh yeah?” His voice was low, rough. 

Gabriel nodded and stood, his hands sliding down the small of Sam’s back and squeezing his ass. Sam kissed him; Gabriel could taste himself on Sam’s tongue.

“I guess I’ll have to thank you again.”

**Author's Note:**

> Originally titled, "Watching Over You." Cross posted from my LiveJournal


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